"Yes, Blanca," I said, "I am proud of you. I want to show you to the
whole world. I love you and I want you, pure, noble, and saintly as you
are."
"I cannot marry you," answered this incomprehensible woman. She would
never give a reason.
Finally my leave of absence expired, and I told her that on the
following day we must separate.
"Separate? It is impossible!" she exclaimed. "I love you too much for
that."
"But you know, Blanca, that I worship you."
"Then give up your profession. I am rich. We will live our lives out
together," she said, putting her soft hand over my mouth to prevent my
answer.
I kissed the hand and then, gently removing it, I answered: "I would
accept this offer from my wife, although it would be a sacrifice for me
to give up my career; but I will not accept it from a woman who refuses
to marry me."
Blanca remained thoughtful for several minutes; then, raising her head,
she looked at me and said very quietly, but with a determination which
could not be misunderstood: "I will be your wife, and I do not ask you
to give up your profession. Go back to your office. How long will it
take you to arrange your business matters and secure from the
government another leave of absence to return to Sevilla?"
"A month."
"A month? Well, here I will await you. Return within a month, and I
will be your wife. To-day is the fifteenth of April. You will be here
on the fifteenth of May?"
"You may rest assured of that."
"You swear it?"
"I swear it."
"You love me?"
"More than my life."
"Go, then, and return. Farewell."
I left on the same day. The moment I arrived home I began to arrange my
house to receive my bride. As you know I solicited another leave of
absence, and so quickly did I arrange my business affairs that at the
end of two weeks I was ready to return to Sevilla.
I must tell you that during this fortnight I did not receive a single
letter from Blanca, though I wrote her six. I started at once for
Sevilla, arriving in that city on the thirtieth of April, and went at
once to the hotel where we had first met.
I learned that Blanca had left there two days after my departure
without telling anyone her destination.
Imagine my indignation, my disappointment, my suffering. She went away
without even leaving a line for me, without telling me whither she was
going. It never occurred to me to remain in Sevilla until the fifteenth
of May to ascertain whether she would return on that date. Three days
later I took up my court work and strove to forget her.
* * * * *
A few moments after my friend Zarco finished the story, we arrived at
the cemetery.
This is only a small plot of ground covered with a veritable forest of
crosses and surrounded by a low stone wall. As often happens in Spain,
when the cemeteries are very small, it is necessary to dig up one
coffin in order to lower another. Those thus disinterred are thrown in
a heap in a corner of the cemetery, where skulls and bones are piled up
like a haystack. As we were passing, Zarco and I looked at the skulls,
wondering to whom they could have belonged, to rich or poor, noble or
plebeian.
Suddenly the judge bent down, and picking up a skull, exclaimed in
astonishment:
"Look here, my friend, what is this? It is surely a nail!"
Yes, a long nail had been driven in the top of the skull which he held
in his hand. The nail had been driven into the head, and the point had
penetrated what had been the roof of the mouth.
What could this mean? He began to conjecture, and soon both of us felt
filled with horror.
"I recognize the hand of Providence!" exclaimed the judge. "A terrible
crime has evidently been committed, and would never have come to light
had it not been for this accident. I shall do my duty, and will not
rest until I have brought the assassin to the scaffold."